We Could've Had It All
by LucyEverdeen28
Summary: *One chapter from Mary's POV and one from Matthew's POV, during S1 episode 5. Mary/Matthew* Mary never thought it would be possible for her to fall in love with Matthew, and meanwhile Matthew continues pining over Mary. But it's already a struggle just for the two of them to remain friends - will they ever be something more?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey, the dialogue in this fic, or its characters.**

**Just started watching Downton Abbey recently, and oh my word, you guys, I'm so obsessed. I've only seen season 1 so far (waiting impatiently for my hold on season 2 to arrive at my library!), but I adore it and I LOVE Mary and Matthew! So I had to write this little fic.**

**Basically, it's Mary's thoughts during ep. 5 of season 1, on the day when she and Matthew are at dinner. Originally it was a oneshot, but since I love Matthew so much, I'm also going to write a second chapter from his POV. :) Hope you enjoy!**

I'm tempted to press my gloved hands to my mouth to cover a yawn, but I restrain myself. The flower displays are all truly lovely, but right now I'd like nothing more than to relax at home by myself. I'm having one of those days where I don't want to be around other people and play my role as the perfect daughter.

I force myself to pay attention to the conversation around me. Cousin Isobel gestures excitedly at Mr. Molseley's flowers. "But do look at these roses. Have you ever seen the like?" she exclaims.

"My dear Mrs. Crawley believes I am profiting from an unfair advantage," Granny says, with a hint of humor in her voice, as if the very idea is preposterous.

"Oh?" Mama says politely.

"She feels in the past I have been given the cup merely as a matter of routine, rather than merit." Granny shakes her head.

Matthew joins in on the conversation. "That's rather ungallant, Mother. I'm sure when we see Cousin Violet's roses, it will be hard to think they could be bettered," he says, unsuccessfully trying to settle the matter.

"Hard, but not impossible." Cousin Isobel gives a tight smile.

"You are quite wonderful, the way you see room for improvement wherever you look. I've never seen such reforming zeal," Granny says in a tone that would best be described as patronizing.

I look down to conceal the fact that I'm rolling my eyes.

"I take that as a compliment," Cousin Isobel says cheerfully.

"Oh, I must've said it wrong," Granny says, chuckling as she moves past me. I don't smile back.

"Poor Granny. She's not used to being challenged," I say to Matthew he steps up to me. Usually, Granny's veiled insults would immediately end an argument, but Cousin Isobel is determined to not let it get her down.

"Nor is Mother," Matthew says with a chuckle. "I think we should let them settle it between them."

I glance around at all the displays. "So are you interested in flowers?" I ask, deciding for small talk.

"I'm interested in the village. In fact, I'm on my way to inspect the cottages."

"You know what all work and no play did for Jack," I remind him.

"But you think I'm a dull boy anyway, don't you?" he says, a smile playing at his lips.

I tilt my head, unable to hide a smile.

"I play too," Matthew assures me. "I'm coming up for dinner tonight. I suspect I'm there to balance the numbers. Is it in aid of anything?"

"Not that I know of. Just a couple of dreary neighbors, that's all." Now, I think I'd almost rather stay here at the flower displays. It's not quite so boring in comparison to the dreaded dinner tonight.

Matthew raises his eyebrows. "Maybe I'll shine by comparison."

Before I have time to form a response, Granny calls out, "Mary, we're going."

"Maybe you will," is all I have time to say before sweeping past Matthew. Once I'm out of his sight, I let myself smile. It's strange, how he's turned out to not be quite so terrible as I once thought he was. It seems I actually enjoy bantering back and forth with him. Who would have thought?

Later that evening, I'm feeling terribly irritated after enduring such a long dinner. I had to go through one of Mama's lectures tonight, and hearing of the gossip about me in London has me worried. I want nothing more than to huddle in my room and ignore the world, but I make myself set aside my emotions and act like the good daughter.

Still, I can't bring myself to make conversation with Sir Anthony, besides polite smiles and brief replies when he makes remarks to me. He's dreadfully boring. Miraculously, Matthew is seated beside me, so I have someone to whisper and laugh with. Otherwise I probably wouldn't be able to bear this horrid dinner.

"Are we ever going to be allowed to turn?" I whisper to Matthew. His lips quirk up in a smile.

Then Edith speaks up from across the table, saying some nonsense to Sir Anthony about progress and the future. I stare at her in surprise, along with Mama and Sybil. Rarely does Edith start a conversation with someone.

I try not to roll my eyes during their short exchange, and instead lift my drink to my lips. This dinner is getting more ridiculous by the minute. A few minutes later, the servants come in with dessert. At last! I relax and serve myself a slice of cake.

"Mama has released me, thank God," I mutter to Matthew, leaning a little in his direction.

"Sir Anthony seems nice enough," he says with a noncommittal shrug.

"If you want to talk farming and foxes by the hour," I say, disgust coloring my voice at the idea. I meant what I said to Mama earlier tonight––I could never stand forty years of boredom married to someone like Sir Anthony. It would destroy my spirit completely.

"I'm rather looking forward to the flower show tomorrow," Matthew says, as if understanding that I want to change the subject. A grin crosses his face, presumably at the memory of his mother and Granny's little competition.

"Where Mr. Molseley's roses will turn everybody's heads. But if you tell Granny I said so, I'll denounce you as a liar," I tease him.

"I wouldn't dare," he says, smiling back at me. "I'll leave that to my fearless mother."

I chuckle, and I'm surprised to realize that it's a real laugh, not forced. Well. I guess that's a good thing, that Matthew and I can still be friends. "How are the cottages?" I ask him, again actually curious to hear the answer.

"They're coming on wonderfully. I'd love to show you," he answers, looking pleased at my interest.

I stare at him, feeling myself getting a little lost in his penetrating blue-eyed gaze. Thankfully, I'm jarred out of my silly staring as Sir Anthony exclaims loudly and starts gagging, attracting everyone's attention.

"What on earth?" Papa mutters.

"I do apologize, Lady Grantham," Sir Anthony stutters, bringing his napkin to his lips. "But I had a mouthful of salt."

"What?" Mama exclaims. There's a touch of panic in her movements as she inspects her own plate. Personally, I'm doing my best not to laugh. Sir Anthony's face as he was coughing up the cake was delightfully ridiculous.

"Everyone, put down your forks," Mama says in a calm yet stilted voice. "Carson, remove this. Bring fruit, bring cheese, bring anything to take this taste away. Sir Anthony, I am so sorry."

"Fains I be Mrs. Patmore's kitchen maid when the news gets out," Papa says, trying to lighten the mood.

I can't help myself. I lift my own napkin to my face to hide my silent giggles. When Matthew sees me he lets out a soft laugh too.

"Poor girl," Sybil agrees.

"We ought to send in a rescue party," I say with a sideways wink at Matthew.

"You must think us very disorganized," Edith says to Sir Anthony apologetically.

"No, not at all," he says, draining his glass in an effort to get rid of the salty taste. "These things happen."

I stifle another laugh and bring my napkin down, forcing my face to become serious before Mama scolds me. Ah, well at least something happened to make this dinner somewhat more entertaining.

Soon, we ladies finally get to leave the dining room. As we file into the parlor, everyone is discussing the dessert incident. "It seems hard that poor Sir Anthony had to pay the price," Edith says.

At that, my amusement at Edith's efforts to gain Sir Anthony's favor turns into annoyance. "Good God!" I say loudly. All eyes turn to me. Sybil chuckles with me, but Mama shoots me an angry glare.

"As for you giggling like a ridiculous schoolgirl with Cousin Matthew––it was pathetic," Edith says snidely, trying to sound superior.

I let myself finish laughing so it appears I'm not perturbed by her remark. Fine. If she wants to play this game, I'll play. I've learned how to pull off insults from the best––Granny. "Oh, poor Edith. I'm sorry Cousin Matthew's proved a disappointment to you."

"Who says he has?" she says, lifting her chin.

"Matthew," I say, turning my head so I'm staring straight at her. "He told me." Edith freezes, barely managing to keep her face composed. "Oh, sorry," I say, though I'm not sorry at all. "Wasn't I supposed to know?"

She doesn't meet my gaze.

"You were very helpful, Edith, looking after Sir Anthony," Mama says, breaking into our conversation. "You saved the day."

Oh, please. Doesn't Edith realize Mama is treating her like a little girl? 'Helpful'? 'Saved the day'? As if. Mama's just trying to make Edith feel better.

But apparently it works on her. "I enjoyed it," Edith says, regaining a little of her obstinacy. "We seemed to have a lot to talk about."

I stare at her as she gets up and walks to the other end of the room. Before I know what I'm doing, I get up and follow her. How can she think that she has a serious chance with Sir Anthony? "Spare me your boasting, please," I hiss at her as she take a sip from her cup of tea.

"Now who's jealous?" she says smugly.

"Jealous?" I can practically feel my eyebrows touching my hairline. "I could have that old booby if I wanted him."

"Even you can't take every prize," Edith says.

But I catch some resentment in her tone. What does she mean by this? Does she really like Sir Anthony, or is she just trying to beat me to him? "Is that a challenge?" I reply quickly.

"If you like."

My lips curl up just slightly at the corners. I'll show her.

As soon as the door opens and the men begin to enter, I turn and smile flirtatiously at Sir Anthony. "Ah! I've been waiting for you. I've found a book over here and I think it's just the thing to catch your interest." I can sense Edith walking behind me, but she's too late. I fly by Matthew, and I can see a slight feeling of betrayal on his open face.

I'm surprised by the twinge of sadness I feel, knowing I've deserted him. I'll have to explain later. Surely he'll understand.

"I'm intrigued. What could it be?" Sir Anthony asks, smiling pleasantly as I take his arm and lead him over to a table. I point to the open page, explaining my thoughts.

"So right, Lady Mary. How clever you are. This is exactly what we have to be aware of," Sir Anthony says, still beaming. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edith standing to the side, but I pointedly ignore her. "There's a section just here that I was rather unsure about," I say instead.

Holding the book, Sir Anthony thanks me profusely. Mere moments later, I glance around for Matthew, only to see him walking out. Oh no. "Excuse me, Sir Anthony." I touch his arm and hurry out of the room.

"Has Mr. Crawley left?" I ask breathlessly, nearly running into one of the footmen, William, in the hall.

"Yes, m'lady."

"But what about the car? Branson can't have brought it round so quickly," I say in dismay. How can he be so determined to go right away?

"Well, he said he'd rather walk, m'lady."

"Thank you." Still, I rush to the door and stand by the window to catch sight of Matthew walking home alone in the dark. I rub my forehead with the heel of my hand, feeling foolish for snubbing him––for what? A little competition I wasn't even serious about?

Standing there alone, I wonder if Matthew and I will ever be able to have a friendship that's not constantly changing. Or if I'll ever be able to undo my mistake so that we might have the chance to be something more than friends. Somehow, the idea of being in love with Matthew doesn't seem so ridiculous anymore. It seems like a possibility.

I cling to that hope as I watch him leave.

**Thanks for reading! By the way, the title is inspired by Adele's "Rolling in the Deep." I listened to it a good deal while writing this, as I think it portrays Mary and Matthew's relationship well. I'd love it if you have a moment to leave a quick review. :)**

**Chapter 2, the final chapter from Matthew's POV, will be posted in about a week's time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, I am SO sorry it took me ages to get this last chapter up. I've been working like crazy to get all my schoolwork done, and unfortunately that just doesn't leave much time for writing. Thank you for the follows/favs/reviews, though!**

**Here it is, the chapter in Matthew's POV:**

I take a look around at the flowers, all the time watching Mary out of the corner of my eye. I've been hoping for a chance to talk to her, but she seems determined to ignore me. Now, if other girls were to ignore me, I'd take it as a sign that they weren't interested. But by now, I've figured out that it's different with Mary. Her personality is naturally defensive and she's a careful, guarded person.

I shake myself back to paying attention. My mother, as usual, has nothing but glowing praise for Mr. Molesley's flowers––and of course she takes this as an opportunity to make a jab at Cousin Violet. "But do look at these roses," Mother is saying. "Have you ever seen the like?"

"My dear Mrs. Crawley believes I am profiting from an unfair advantage," Cousin Violet announces. I try not to smile. I do like Cousin Violet. She's funny––both intentionally and unintentionally at times––and quite feisty and sarcastic. She and Mother are a lot alike, much as they may hate to admit it.

"Oh?" Cousin Cora asks. Though she doesn't smile, it's implied in her tone. She, too, seems to find their banter amusing.

"She feels in the past, I have been given the cup merely as a matter of routine, rather than merit," Cousin Violet says with a sniff.

I decide to step in and calm things down. "That's rather ungallant, Mother," I say, which is true. She does seem to be overstepping her bounds a little. "I'm sure when we see Cousin Isobel's flowers, it will be hard to think they could be bettered."

"Hard, but not impossible," Mother says decisively, a tight smile crossing her lips. I know that smile. It's her I'm-being-polite-even-though-I-want-to-strangle-yo u-right-now smile.

Cousin Violet's eyebrows pop upwards. "You are quite wonderful, the way you see room for improvement wherever you look. I've never seen such reforming zeal."

I stifle a chuckle. What a way to both compliment and insult someone.

Mother is nonplussed. "I take that as a compliment," she says, briskly turning her head away.

Cousin Violet chuckles gently. "I must've said it wrong," she jokes as I step to the side to let her pass. This time, I don't quite manage to hide my grin.

"Poor Granny. She's not used to being challenged," Mary tells me dryly.

Ah, good. So she's decided to speak to me. I smile at her, pleased that everyone else has scattered off and we can finally talk alone. "Nor is Mother. I think we should let them settle it between them." For our own amusement.

"So are you interested in flowers?" Mary asks, gesturing at all the displays.

Hm. They're not what I came here for, but I'd best not admit that. "I'm interested in the village. In fact, I'm on my way to inspect the cottages."

"You know what all work and no play did for Jack," she says pointedly.

"But you think I'm dull anyway, don't you?" I say, knowing it will bring a smile to her lips. When it does, I can't help smiling back. "I play too. I'm coming up for dinner tonight; I suspect I'm there to balance the numbers. Is it in aid of anything?"

"Not that I know of," Mary says with one of her signature sighs––a delicate, dignified, and yet irritated huff of air. "Just a couple dreary neighbors, that's all."

I raise my eyebrows. "Maybe I'll shine by comparison," I say, doing my best to keep my tone neutral and not too hopeful.

Mary looks a little surprised, and, dare I say, a bit pleased too. At the other end of the room, her grandmother calls for her. "Maybe you will," she says, just as noncommittal as me, before she sweeps past me.

I inhale deeply and catch the scent of her perfume. I let myself smile at her retreating figure. It's funny how before I came to Downton, I'd assumed she'd be snobby and full of herself. And that's not entirely untrue, but there's more to Mary than meets the eye. Underneath her façade is a beautiful, strong woman.

If only she'd learn to start trusting me more.

Hours later at dinner, Mary seems impatient and, if I'm reading her right, distressed about something. As usual, she doesn't let on that she's upset and instead acts perfectly calm on the outside. But to me, it's obvious that something's bothering her.

Since she doesn't want to talk about it, I do my best to cheer her up. We make jokes and laugh quietly. It's nice that we don't have to make polite conversation anymore. We've gotten to the point where we can talk to each other as friends.

"Are we ever going to be allowed to turn?" Mary whispers to me as we await the arrival of dessert.

I grin at her. Poor Mary has Sir Anthony Strallan on her other side. Or should I say, poor Anthony for having Mary at his side? She's done nothing but make the barest conversation with him tonight, and has simply ignored him the rest of the time––but not in an intentionally rude way. She's not impolite like that. No, she just doesn't want to talk to him. It's not rudeness, it's lack of interest. One of many of Mary's quirks that I've learned.

Edith strikes up a conversation with Sir Anthony, and the conversation between me and Mary drifts off. I can't stop staring at her, though. She's focused on dissecting Edith and Sir Anthony's conversation, so she doesn't see me watching her. I see the way her shoulders droop, how her smile is fake, how her eyes don't have their usual spark. Something _is _wrong.

I quickly look away from her when the dessert comes in. She relaxes. "Mama has released me, thank God," Mary whispers to me, relief tingeing her voice.

"Sir Anthony seems nice enough," I say, just to see what her reply will be. I'm sure by now, she's already formed an opinion on him. Strike that. She probably had an opinion about him _before _she even met him.

She shivers in disgust. "If you want to talk farming and foxes by the hour."

For the first time tonight, I notice the touch of sadness in her voice. Is this what has her upset? Perhaps her parents are pressuring her to marry soon––presumably they think Sir Anthony is a good match. Yet I can't think of anything more ill-suited for Mary. Resentment and a feeling of…protectiveness, I suppose, rises up in me. I don't want anything like that to happen to Mary. It would crush her spirit.

Her only sign of distress is the way her lips are pressed in a straight line. The poor girl. How she manages to stay so strong in front of everyone else no matter what…I'll never understand that. I sense that Mary would like to talk about something else, so I quickly change the subject.

"I'm rather looking forward to the flower show tomorrow," I say, with mirth in my voice.

She relaxes at my words, and I wish I could tell her that she doesn't have to pretend everything's fine, not in front of me. "Where Mr. Molesley's roses will turn everyone's heads. But if you tell Granny I said so, I'll denounce you as a liar," Mary jokes.

A smile spreads across my face. "I wouldn't dare. I'll leave that to my fearless mother."

"How are the cottages?" Mary asks, turning so that she's facing me a little more.

My eyes shoot to hers, more than a little surprised at her interest. "They're coming on wonderfully. I'd love to show you."

Mary stares back, a shy smile crossing her lips. She seems to approve of the idea. Not only that, she's still staring at me. Neither of us seems able to look away.

Then a choking noise startles us both, and we tear our gazes away from each other to the source of the noise. Next to Mary, Sir Anthony is gagging into his napkin.

"What on earth?" Cousin Robert exclaims.

Sir Anthony lets out a cough. "I do apologize, Lady Grantham," he says, as Cousin Cora sits on his other side looking aghast. "But I had a mouthful of salt!"

"What?" Shocked, Cousin Cora lifts a tiny forkful to her lips. Her mouth is set in a straight line, much like Mary's was moments ago. "Everyone, put down your forks. Carson, remove this. Bring fruit, bring cheese, bring anything to take this taste away. Sir Anthony, I am so sorry."

"Fains I be Mrs. Patmore's kitchen maid when the news gets out," Cousin Robert says cheerfully. Around the table, everyone chuckles politely.

But when I glance over at Mary, she's clutching her napkin to her mouth to hide her giggling. At this angle, only I can see her silent, uncontrolled laughter. It's contagious, and before I know it I'm laughing too.

"Poor girl," Sybil remarks to her father.

Mary's eyes crinkle from laughing. "We ought to send in a rescue party," she suggest, looking sideways at me and winking. It's impossible not to smile back.

"You must think us very disorganized," Edith says to Sir Anthony, speaking up yet again.

"No, not at all," he says, despite still looking a bit distressed. "These things happen."

Mary claps a hand over her mouth to cover up another grin. I catch her eye and we both chuckle as if sharing a secret.

After dinner is over, Cousin Robert strikes up a conversation with me. "I hope our salty pudding didn't spoil the evening for you," he says as we walk down the hall to join the ladies.

"On the contrary," I say, a smile splitting my face at the memory of Mary's laugh.

The twinkle in Cousin Robert's eye tells me he's guessed my thoughts. "I'm glad you and Mary are getting along; there's no reason you can't be friends."

"No, no reason at all," I reply, glad that he approves.

"I don't suppose there's any chance that you could…sort of start again?" Cousin Robert ventures to ask.

I smile at the idea. Things have been going well between us lately––well enough, perhaps, that I can dare to hope. "Life is full of surprises."

Just then, we enter the room, and my eyes immediately seek out Mary. She lights up, smiling and glowing, as she strides over to us. "Ah! I've been waiting for you."

"Oh really?" I murmur, but she whizzes right past me as if I'm invisible. Shocked, I turn around to see her curling her hand around Sir Anthony's arm and guiding him across the room. My jaw tightens, and I feel like a fool.

Why must she be this way? She was mocking Sir Anthony minutes earlier. Mary doesn't have anything she needs to prove; this is just pure stubbornness. Why can't she just stop with the mixed signals?

I'm sick of this. I may adore the girl, and I do my best to understand her, but she has literally just abandoned me and there's no good reason for that. My throat dry, I take a sip from my glass.

"It seems we have both been thrown over for a bigger prize," Edith says, sidling up to my side.

I feel heat spread over my face at her words––my word, even Edith noticed my humiliation. I need to get out of here, and right now. "Heavens, is that the time?" I say, unable to meet her gaze.

"You're not going?" she says, rather pathetically. I feel bad for her, but I can't stay a minute longer when my head's pounding like this.

"The truth is, my head's splitting. I don't want to spoil the party, so I'll slip away." I hand my glass to one of the waiters. "Please make my excuses to your parents." Without another word, I march out of the room.

Minutes later, I'm out in the cool air and walking home, still fuming at what happened. Today has been the closest I've been to Mary––we talked as if we were friends and I felt like we had an understanding. I thought we were getting close to becoming something more.

Then with one little action, she ruined it all.

I sigh. I know that there's no way I can stay mad at her forever, but right now I can't think straight. Maybe someday, Mary and I will be able to have a future together. But I fear it won't be any time soon.

**Thanks for reading this! Just a heads-up, if you enjoyed this, you might want to keep an eye out as I'll be posting a Matthew/Mary songfic to Adele's "Someone Like You" sometime within a week. I finished season 2 and it inspired the idea for a songfic. :)**


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